Chapter Ten

When Gordon, Parker and Lady Penelope caught up with Virgil and John they were standing near to the door leading out onto the eighth floor of the building. John was talking quietly into his watch while Virgil was carefully looking through the glass of the door.

"Yeah, that's what we thought too. So I'm going to go up to the roof to see if I can find him while Virgil and the others check out the auction" There was a pause for a moment, the reply too soft for the others to catch "Yeah. me too, little brother, me too. Tell dad we'll call in again as soon as we get the chance to tell him what's happened." With that he closed the channel and looked up as the other three mounted the last of the steps to join them.

"What's happening? Are they here?"

Lady Penelope was a little breathless, her long blond hair now starting to escape the bands that held it back, disturbed by crawling through the access channel and then by the fast jog up the stairs. Virgil stepped back from his post by the door.

"They seem to be meeting in a room down the hall from the elevator. We've seen several people leave the car and head that way since we got here."

"Any sign of Scott?" Gordon slipped past Parker and Penelope and cautiously peeped through the glass as Virgil had been doing, careful not to expose too much of his head to view from the other side of the door.

"No." John's voice was quiet and calm and belied the anxiousness that was coursing through his veins at the thought that they might be so close to their eldest brother once again. "From the vibrations and noise we think Thunderbird One must have landed on the roof. It's possible he's still up there and only his captors have come down to conduct this charade. I'm going to look while the rest of you check out the show."

"Is that wise John? Perhaps we should stay together? We don't know how many of them are up there. By yourself you could get into trouble."

"Don't worry Penny, I'll be fine – they're the ones that need to watch out. If Scott is up there then this is our opportunity to get to him and Thunderbird One at the same time. Without either of them in his clutches this Mestari's game goes all to pot. You four be careful though. As well as Mestari there's a whole bunch of other hoodlums in there. They may not be armed but don't take any chances."

Virgil and Gordon nodded silently and moved to open the door, checking that Parker and Penelope were close behind them. After checking his gun was fitted with the knockout darts that would render a man unconscious before he hit the ground, John turned and disappeared up the stairwell.

Once out in the hallway the four moved quickly away from the stairwell towards a set of double doors from where they could hear the mumble of low voices. Gordon split off from the others before they reached the doors to investigate a small passageway off to the left, Parker and Penelope drifting after him. Peeking around the edge of the nearest door Virgil looked into a large room carpeted and curtained and about half-filled with groups of chairs arranged around randomly scattered circular tables. Most of the chairs were empty as groups of men stood around the room, looking suspiciously at those around them and quickly returning to their own conversations. At the far end of the room was a raised stage, the wings obscured from view by curtains. The whole place had the appearance of a room set aside for casual entertainment and conversation.

As Virgil watched, a middle-aged man with thinning brown hair and metal framed spectacles, made his way to the middle of the stage from the right hand side. Almost immediately silence fell as the men stopped their conversations and turned to face the stage.

"Gentlemen, I am Mestari. Thank you for coming here tonight."

Virgil jumped at a light tap on his shoulder.

"Mister Gordon 'as found another h'entrance."

Tearing his eyes away from the room Virgil followed the butler and retreated around the corner of the room and up the small side corridor. There he found a door almost hidden in the shadows cast in the enclosed area. Inside was a much smaller room, on the opposite side of which was another door. Gordon and Lady Penelope were already standing by the door, watching through the slight crack. Virgil stepped up behind them and positioned himself so that he could also see out.

"...of the unique offer open to you tonight I am sure that you understand the reason for the security precautions in place downstairs."

At this an angry murmuring went up from the crowd. From about halfway back a cultured voice rang out.

"So you say." The crowd pulled back slightly to reveal an elegantly dressed, red-haired man, with a well cut, expensive suit. "However I see neither an International Rescue craft nor any International Rescue personnel. It is well known that they have the best security in the world – even the World President doesn't know who they are or where they come from. Do forgive us if we seem a little.." He paused, considering his words "...doubting. Perhaps you would be so good as to provide us with some evidence?"

Assenting voices and the nodding of several heads showed the same thoughts were widely held.

"A reasonable request Mister Price"

The man looked taken aback at the use of his name.

"Oh yes Mister Price, I know your name – as I know the names of you all" Mestari opened his hands to encompass all within the room, "and knowing you, I knew that you would be wise enough not to take my word for this. That is why I have brought the pilot of the Thunderbird machine here with me tonight." Without taking his eyes off his audience Mestari stretched out his left hand to the side. "Come out my friend. It is time to let these good gentlemen see you."

Utter silence fell in the main room and all eyes followed the gesture. Looking across the stage Virgil noticed for the first time a curtain of material separating off the far end of the stage from his view. The curtain shivered for a moment before being pushed aside as a figure stepped out from behind it and, somewhat stiffly and mechanically, walked onto the stage. The soft cries of dismay that came simultaneously from Virgil, Gordon and Lady Penelope were thankfully masked by the gasps of astonishment that came from the audience.

His face was pale and tired; an appearance emphasised by the five o'clock shadow that covered his neck and jaw. His eyes were flat and devoid of expression, two pale pools of blue, the pupils only pinpricks in the centre, staring straight-ahead and acknowledging nothing. His uniform, the eye-catching bright blue of International Rescue with a light blue sash, was an immediate identifier for the crowd but Virgil did not need it. There, in front of him, unmistakably, was his brother - Scott Tracy.

Scott reached Mestari and stood passively by his side, his eyes staring out over the hall. For a moment nobody spoke. Then

"Well, you appear to have a man in the uniform of International Rescue" The cultured voice of Mister Price was speaking again "but I still see no International Rescue machine."

"But you will Mister Price. Lights!"

At Mestari's order the room went dark and a lighted screen appeared on the wall behind his head. A buzz of excited conversation filled the hall as the projection revealed a camera shot of a large room, in the centre of which stood the silver blue scout craft of International Rescue. From around its stilts appeared the form of a well-built man carrying an automatic weapon. Movement from the back of the machine revealed the presence of another guard. Gordon instantly ducked back into the main body of the room, raising his chronometer to his lips.

"John, it's Gordon, do you read me?"

Almost immediately John appeared, his face a little flushed and his voice a little breathless.

"Go ahead Gordon, what's the problem?"

"Where are you?"

"Just getting to the top of the stairwell. There's about thirty floors, it's taken me a while to get here."

"John, Thunderbird One's up there but there are at least two armed guards with automatic weapons."

"Not good." John bit his lip "how do you know?"

"They've got a live feed down here. We can see the guards as well as Thunderbird One."

"Any sign of Scott?"

"He's down here too but it looks like he's still being controlled by Mestari."

"Still? He was taken three days ago, how come it's not worn off yet?"

"I don't know. For now I'm just grateful he's still alive."

"Any way of getting to him?"

"Not at the moment. He's in full public view. We'd have to take on the whole room to get him out of there"

"Then I guess it's down to me."

"What are you going to do?"

"Get rid of those guards and get to Thunderbird One. If I can at least get that out of here then Mestari's got one less card to play with."

"John don't be stupid!" Gordon hissed "Those are full battle weapons they're toting. You'll be cut to pieces as soon as they see you."

"Then I'll just have to make sure that they don't see me." John moved as if to cut off the communication.

"John wait!" Gordon was desperate to stop his older brother doing something foolish "Don't forget the feed. As soon as you set foot in that room everyone here will see you and then you'll have all the rest of the crooks in this place to deal with – we won't be able to stop them all."

"You've got a point kiddo" John paused and thought for a moment "I presume he's using the live feed to prove that he's really got Thunderbird One?"

"Too right. They didn't believe him even when he brought out Scott."

"Then I guess as soon as they're convinced he'll shut it off while he gets down to business. I'll leave it for five minutes. Let me know if the feed stops. If it's still going I'll go in anyway – I'll just have to be as careful as I can."

Gordon looked sceptical but could tell by the glint in his older brother's eye that he was not going to be put off from his course.

"F.A.B. but hold off for a while."

Gordon turned back to the door. He did not have long to wait. Mestari was still speaking.

"No, my friend will not tell you his name or any of the secrets of his organisation until I tell him to. After all, that's what one of you will be paying for – I'm sure you wouldn't want your competitors to know for free what you will be paying good money to get."

Again there were general murmurings and nodding of heads to show assent.

"However, what I can say is that once our business here is concluded it will be my pleasure to take the successful bidder to see this magnificent aircraft 'in the flesh' so to speak. But for now, it is time to open the bidding."

With that he clapped his hands twice, the live feed snapped off and the lights came on. Gordon ducked back into the body of the room.

"John, go! He's turned it off."

"F.A.B." The blond man's face was taut with intent but his eyes looked back steadily at his younger brother. "See you later little bro'"

"John, just take care. We don't want anything to happen to you."

"Don't worry, it won't."

The line was cut and Gordon again turned back to watch through the crack. The bidding was going surprisingly slowly. Each of the groups of men seemed to be unsure of how to proceed in such an open affair. No-one but Mestari and his men downstairs were armed and acts of intimidation and violence were out of the question. After a few minutes of lack lustre bidding and response Mestari raised a hand.

"Gentlemen, please. I cannot help but think that you are not taking this matter seriously." The crowd turned its attention to the kidnapper. "Out of respect to your country, to what I may call my 'Alma Mater' I have brought before you, the cream of the criminal establishment in this land, an unparalleled opportunity to obtain the secrets desired by the entire world. And yet, here we are, and you cannot offer me more than a measly pittance for the secrets that your counterparts in the rest of the world would be falling over themselves to obtain." He fixed the audience with a glare through his spectacles. "I have to tell you gentlemen, that unless your offers improve radically I will exercise the sellers prerogative to take his goods elsewhere and you will have lost the opportunity of a lifetime. Now, shall we continue?"

Once again the bidding began and this time the pace was fast and furious. Behind the door Lady Penelope signed to Virgil and Gordon and the three of them withdrew into the room to confer.

"Well, it seems that we had better act now before poor Scott becomes the property of a British criminal. Shall we begin boys?"

Before they could reply a clamour went up from the auction room. Parker, who had replaced them at the door when they had retreated to confer, called back to them.

"M'Lady......somethin's 'appenin'."

Hurrying back to the butler's side he opened the door a little wider. Mr Price, while still on the main floor of the room, had moved to the right hand, opposite side of the stage from where the uninvited attendees were watching. In his hand was a gun that he must have managed to smuggle past the guards at the door. The gun was trained on Mestari and Scott. At various points around the edges of the room a half dozen men had appeared, carrying automatic weapons that were trained on the other occupants of the room.

"Unfortunately Mister Mestari" Price was speaking "I'm afraid that we must bring your little gathering to a premature end."

"I don't know why you're doing this Price, but you're making a major mistake." Mestari was glaring at his opponent "don't think that you're going to get your hands on my prize by brute violence."

"I am afraid that Mister Price sends his apologies as he was unable to be here this evening."

The room's occupants watched in astonishment as "Mr Price" reached down to the right hand side of his neck with his left hand and then literally ripped off his face. The features of another man were revealed beneath the latex mask, a man with short blond hair and very pale, in some lights almost white, blue eyes.

"He has been 'unavoidably detained' by the World Police." The previously cultured English tones of 'Mr Price' had been replaced by a noticeable American drawl. "You might as well surrender now Mestari – we've already taken out your men downstairs and the building is surrounded by cars and police aerial forces – you've nowhere to run."

"Oh, but I think I have."

Mestari's quiet comment reached Virgil's ears just as chaos broke loose. All eyes had been watching the exchange between Mestari and the policeman, none had been observing Scott. At his last words the kidnapper stepped back behind Scott and clapped his hand on his captive's back.

Instantly Scott pulled his gun from his belt and fired at the policeman and then turned and ran with Mestari towards the door where his friends were standing. Around the policeman a cloud of white gas and smoke erupted. Many of the occupants turned and tried to flee from the room, falling over chairs, tables and each other in their haste to escape. Those in the vicinity of the smoke collapsed first to their knees and then to their faces and lay still. The armed men around the room fired rounds into the ceiling to try to get order but the fleeing criminals only moved more quickly to escape the room and their own arrests.

Mestari thrust open the door to the small room and then came to an abrupt stop, non-plussed at finding four people standing before him. Scott, arriving an instant later, pulled to a halt beside him, his gun pointing at the small group. His face was blank, showing no sign of recognition. For a moment there was silence as each side regarded the other in shock. Virgil recovered first, his gun in his hand as he stepped towards the two men.

"That's far enough Mestari, stop right there. Scott, it's okay, we've come to take you home."

The blank expression that covered Scott's face slipped as he shifted his gaze to Virgil and a flicker of recognition appeared briefly in his eyes. Then it was gone and the blank mask of indifference that had previously covered his face returned. His eyes were as cold as stone as he released another gas pellet from his gun. This one bounced off Virgil's shoulder and the almost instant cloud of gas enveloped Virgil, Lady Penelope and Parker. As Gordon saw the other three crumple to the ground and felt the gas begin to act on his senses, he jumped at Scott and tried to wrest the gun from his grasp. His mind shrieked in disbelief as his brother drove a fist into his abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. As he fell to his hands and knees two joined fists came down on the back of his neck and the red haired sibling of the Tracy family knew no more.

From his vantage point behind the door to the stairwell John Tracy looked through the glass into the large open area where Thunderbird One stood. Only one of the guards was in sight, his back to the door as he paced away across the floor. Extracting an item from the belt at his waist John clasped it securely in his left hand and then, holding his gun before him, silently opened the door and slipped inside. To his right, by the wall, he could see the doors to the elevator that served this floor. To the left, a bank of controls that presumably operated the moveable, domed roof that presently covered the building and hid Thunderbird One from external view.

His soft-soled shoes giving no sound, John ran quickly towards the guard, aimed and fired. The silencer built into the gun ensured the noise was no more than a slight popping sound. As soon as the darts struck, the powerful drug within them took effect and the guard crumpled and folded to the floor. John scooted forward and caught him but unfortunately was not quick enough to stop the guard's weapon from clattering against the concrete floor. From behind Thunderbird One came a voice.

"Bill is that you? Is everything OK?"

Cursing softly John laid the supine form down on the ground and frantically looked around for a hiding place but he was out of time.

"Put your gun on the floor mister and raise your hands. Now!"

A hard-faced guard was coming towards him, his weapon levelled and ready to fire. Dropping his gun John raised his hands above his head, quickly moving the item in his left hand to hold it behind his fingers and hide it from view.

"Hold your fire"

"Back off, slowly."

Carefully John took a few steps until he was far enough away from the unconscious man that his friend was satisfied. Watching him carefully the man approached and knelt on one knee by his comrade, checking his pulse with one hand.

"He's only unconscious" John offered "He'll be fine in an hour or so."

"It's as well for you that he is. I'd have ignored orders and killed you right here if he was dead. Now, turn around and head for...."

He broke off and glanced down as a low moan came from the man on the floor. Recognising his chance John whipped his hand down, hurled the contents at the ground in front of the guard and then did a rolling dive to the side, bounding to his feet and running for the cover of Thunderbird One. Taken by surprise the gunman had no time to avoid the capsule that had exploded on contact with the ground, releasing a cloud of white gas that enveloped the two men. He gave one choking cough as he tried to rise to his feet, and then fell to the ground.

John skidded to a halt underneath the body of Thunderbird One. Looking back he saw that his ruse had worked and nodded in satisfaction. Taking a deep breath he ran back to the nearest guard, caught him up in a tight grip and dragged him back into the stairwell. Pausing only long enough to take another lungful of clear air he returned to the main room and retrieved the second guard. Extracting some pieces of strong, thin wire from another pouch on his belt he tied them to the stairwell handrail by their wrists and ankles and then returned to the rooftop where the narcotic cloud had now fully dispersed. Quickly he assessed the controls that operated the retractable roof and within seconds the dome was folding itself backwards, revealing a clear, starlit night.

At the access hatch to the scout craft John pressed his hand against the identity plate and keyed in the security numbers. Nothing happened. Frowning he keyed them in again, more slowly this time, ensuring he made no mistake. Again nothing happened.

"John Tracy to Thunderbird Five."

"Come in John. What's happening?"

"Alan, Scott's changed the security key on the access door to Thunderbird One – I can't get in."

"What? Why would he do that? Is he there? Have....?"

"Alan I don't have time for all this." John's words were hurried as he turned away from the access hatch. "I can't fly Thunderbird One out of here if I can't get in and Scott's downstairs with Mestari. I'm guessing he hasn't changed the code on the equipment hatch so I'm going to get the auto-locator working again and then go back to the others. Tell Dad what's happening and I'll call again as soon as I can."

"F.A.B. Take care."

Alan cut the line and John reached up to the security device for the equipment hatch under which he now stood, placed his hand on the identity plate and then keyed in the code. This time a hatch on the underside of the craft opened and dropped down to the ground, revealing a short flight of steps moulded into its inside surface. Quickly he entered the craft, closing the steps behind him as the automatic motion detector operated the lighting system. Most of the portable equipment from the craft was still present, although it had presumably been inspected as some of it was no longer stored in its normal position.

The auto-locator device was on the opposite wall. Not only had it been turned off but it had also been partially dismantled. Groaning in exasperation he turned to a nearby locker and extracted the tools required to carry out the necessary repairs – this would take longer than he expected.

So caught up in his task was he that he registered neither the sound of heliplanes circling the building above him and the wail of sirens drifting up from the street below, nor the sound of running feet and of the pilot's access hatch being opened. The first indication he had that he was not alone was the thunderous roar of the VTOL rockets bursting into life.

"What the blazes! What's going on?"

As Thunderbird One lifted from the platform John struggled to keep his balance. A loud explosion nearby resulted in the rescue craft being thrown into a steep, vertical climb. Thrown from his feet John landed awkwardly against one of the portable pieces of equipment. His head struck against an edge and he fell into darkness.

Authors Note:

Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. Your comments are much appreciated – it is good to know that you are enjoying the tale.

Jules47: I would have replied separately but there's no e-mail address for you. I've been waiting for you to appear. I thought you'd be breathing fiery death on me after chapter five – let's see if you like this one.

Amanduriel – happy now?

I reckon there's going to be about another eight chapters after this one so we're just over half-way through. Now would be a good time for anyone to mention any errors/problems they have noticed or that may have been grating on your nerves – that way you'll not have to stop reading in disgust or put up with the pain for the remainder of the story. I know I've made at least one factual boob a few chapters back that no reviewer has mentioned and I'm sure there are some grammatical errors around. Please do feel free to comment so I can learn from them. All input is appreciated.

Please note, the Gerry Anderson characters belong to someone else, they do not belong to me. That includes both the main characters and anyone else you may happen to recognise. Anyone you don't recognise is doubtless a figment of my imagination.

I wish only to borrow said characters and will return them when I have finished with them.